Shakespeare endures.
Though four hundred-odd years and countless playwrights
have come and gone, the works William Shakespeare
continue to enthrall us. Every student studies him. Some
love him; many hate him. Still, all know him. Outside the
classroom, too, Shakespeare continues to shape the
culture of the western world. His plays grace the stage
each season, with such diverse company as Sophocles and
Jeff Goode. They are produced in every imaginable
context. Critics continue to analyze their facets.
Indeed, critics dedicate tomes to critiquing their
peers observations of his works. Each year, a new
crop of his plays are, with a few intermittent
exceptions, butchered by Hollywood. Surprisingly enough,
however, those films continue to draw crowds. Surely,
Shakespeares endurance attests to his literary
merit. Even in the eighteenth century, the Bards
votaries defended his worth by citing the longevity of
his appeal. Dr. Samuel Johnson, however, warned against
such short-sighted estimations of greatness by reminding
his contemporaries that all too often "praises are
without reason lavished on the dead, and the honours
do only to excellence are paid to antiquity"
(Johnson 8). Still, Johnson proclaims Shakespeares
merits. With his publication The Plays of William
Shakespeare in 1765, Johnson made his contribution to
the history of Shakespearean criticism. As with much of
his work, Johnson left his own indelible mark on the
field. His edition remains relevant today because it
continues to affect the way critics approach Shakespeare.

Johnson was not the
first editor of Shakespeare; nor was he by any means the
last. Though he defended the methodology of his edition
itself quite well, its legacy in modern literature is, on
the whole, indirect. The critical material that
accompanies his edition continues to have a much more
direct effect on Shakespeare as he is interpreted today.
To use Johnsons own criterion, his Preface and
annotation can be called great because "frequent
comparisons have confirmed opinion in its favor"
(Johnson 9). An understanding of the criticism itself is,
of course, necessary to any understanding of its
endurance. The notes with which Johnson sprinkled his
edition, though indisputably important, are too diverse
to be treated with any justice here. Johnsons more
comprehensive Preface has retained its influence to the
present day.

There are four easily
distinguished sections in Johnsons Preface; in the
first, he explicates Shakespeares virtues after
explaining what merit, if any, can be determined by the
Shakespeares enduring popularity. Johnson walks the
middle ground with his critique of antiquity. He neither
fully embraces longevity as a litmus test of quality nor
rejects it as meaningless. Rather, he points out that
those works which have withstood the test of time stand
out not because of their age alone, but because, with
age, those works have "been compared with other
works of the same kind" and can therefore be
"stiled excellent" (Johnson 9). He proceeds
thence to elevate Shakespeare as the poet of nature.
"Nothing can please many, and please long, but just
representations of general nature" (10). It is
Shakespeares realism, Johnson argues, that
distinguishes him from other playwrights. In his
characterization and dialogue, Shakespeare
"overlooks the casual distinction of country and
condition," striking at the center of humanity (14).
The nature captured by Shakespeares characters is
exhibited in the "ease and simplicity" of their
dialogues (12). Indeed, Johnson points out, the
distinctions of character stressed by such critics as
Voltaire and Rhymer impose only artificial burdens on the
natural genius of Shakespeare. Johnson goes further in
his defense of the Bards merit, extending his
argument from the characters within his plays to the
genre of the plays themselves. In the strictest,
classical sense of the terms, Johnson admits,
Shakespeares works cannot be fairly called comedies
or tragedies. For this too, his plays earned harsh
criticism from Johnsons contemporaries. Johnson,
though, sees in the mixture of sorrow and joy a style
which "approaches nearer than either to the
appearance of life" (15). By acknowledging the basis
of such criticism, Johnson frees himself to turn the
argument on its head. He holds up the tragicomedies of
Shakespeare as distinctly natural; in their
"interchange of seriousness and merriment,"
they hold up "a faithful mirrour of manners and of
life" (15, 10). This, of course, is paramount to
literary success to Johnson. His praise for Shakespeare,
which centers on the Bards sublunary approach to
character, dialogue, and plot, does not blind him to the
poet of natures weaknesses.

Johnson airs
Shakespeares imperfections without hesitance. In
doing so, though, he does not weaken his arguments; he
simply establishes his credentials as a critic. As Edward
Tomarken points out, "for Johnson, criticism
requires, not intrusive sententiae, but evaluative
interpretations, decisions about how literature applies
to the human dilemma" (Tomarken 2). Johnson is not
hesitant to admit Shakespeares faults: his earlier
praise serves to keep those flaws in perspective. Even
without that perspective, however, Johnsons censure
of Shakespeare is not particularly harsh. For the most
part, Johnson highlights surface-level defects in the
Bards works: his "loosely formed" plots,
his "commonly gross" jests, andmost
ironicallyhis "disproportionate pomp of
diction and a wearisome train of circumlocution"
(Johnson 19, 20). The most egregious fault Johnson finds
in Shakespeare, though, is thematic. Unsurprisingly,
Johnson exhibits emphatic distaste for Shakespeares
lack of moral purpose. Johnson argues that he
"sacrifices virtue to convenience" (19). In
leading "his persons indifferently through right and
wrong" and leaving "their examples to operate
by chance," Shakespeare has abandoned his duty as an
author as the righteous Johnson would have that duty
defined (19). This is, in his eyes, Shakespeares
greatest flaw, though it does not supercede his other
merits.

In the third section of
his Preface, Johnson ceases his attack on Shakespeare,
and returns to his defense. Johnson begins by refuting
the reproach wrought by adherents to the unities, which
had "elicited from French criticism a tiresome
unanimity" (Stock 76). Though they have lost their
prominence, Shakespeares deviation from the unities
of action, time, and place earned him substantial
censure. Johnson defends Shakespeares employment of
unity of action, though he admits that Shakespeare
deviates slightly in to allow his plots to concur with
nature. He goes further, though, and summarily dismisses
the value of the unities, whose importance, he contends,
"arises from the supposed necessity of making the
drama credible" (Johnson 23). Such credibility is
impossible, however, since the very nature of drama is
beyond the reach of reason. "Spectators,"
Johnson points out, "are always in their senses, and
know, from the first act to the last, that the stage is
only a stage, and that the players are only players"
(24). The imagination of the audience, stretched by the
play itself, is not incapable of further activity. By
reversing the entire paradigm through which the unities
are used, Johnson changes Shakespeares fault into a
praiseworthy asset. Johnson also praises Shakespeare
within his context. Given the Bards unimpressive
educational background, the quality of his work is
astounding. Education alone, however, could not produce
Shakespeares works, which have "a vigilance of
distinction which books and precepts cannot offer"
(35). It is that observation which makes him the poet of
nature, and frees his works from many forms of criticism.
Johnson extends his consideration of context to the
national level. At a time in which the English had no
model of literary excellence, Shakespeare produced just
such a model. In his context, then, Johnson purports that
Shakespeares achievement is phenomenal.
Johnsons defends Shakespeare as having fulfilled
the "first purpose of a writer, by exciting restless
and unquenchable curiosity, and compelling him that reads
his work to read it through" (Johnson 30). His
advocacy of Shakespeare in the first section, coupled
with his rigorous defense in the third, all but insist
that Shakespeares merits heavily outweigh his
faults.

In the final quarter of
the Preface, Johnson reviews the work of previous editors
of Shakespeare, and after critiquing his predecessors,
Johnson explains his own editorial methodology. Clearly,
Johnson felt that no extant edition could be considered
authoritative, for he undertook to create his own. He
opens by lamenting Shakespeares complete disregard
for the preservation of his plays. Had the Bard released
an authorized edition of his works during his lifetime,
Johnson points out, the "negligence and
unskilfulness" of eighteenth century editors would
not have "corrupted many passages perhaps beyond
recovery" (Johnson 39, 40). Still, Johnson proves
willing add praise to his condemnation as he comments on
the particular approaches of Rowe, Pope, Theobald,
Hanmer, and Warburton. Rowe, whose edition appeared in
1709, focused little on "correction or
explanation," but whose emendations were used by
successive editors (40). Johnson acknowledges that his
approach to Shakespeare was suitable for his context.
Johnson grants more praise to Pope, who he says
illustrated to readers the "true state of
Shakespeares text" (41). In doing so, Pope
edited the plays heavily, even distinguishing between the
legitimate and the forgeries. For Pope Johnson retained
an editors notes in full, an indication of the high
regard in which Johnson held him.

Not all of
Johnsons predecessors faired as well as Pope,
though. Johnson isnot altogether
surprisinglyharsh with Theobald, who attacked
Popes edition. Johnson characterizes him as "a
man of narrow comprehension with no native and
intrinsick splendour of genius" (Johnson 42-43).
Still, Johnson acknowledges that "what little he did
do was commonly right" (43). Of his notes, Johnson
retains those from his second edition which were not
corrected by successive editors. Johnson rigorously
defends his fourth predecessor, Hanmer, whose attempts to
add form to Shakespeares meter had been attacked.
Johnson, however, stresses Hanmers great care in
annotation, and reaffirms his merit as an editor.
Warburton, the most recent of the Bards editors,
earns more sever censure from Johnsons pen. Johnson
criticizes, first and foremost, Warburtons
overconfidence, "which presumes to do, by surveying
the surface, what labour only can perform, by penetrating
the bottom" (45). Johnson also attacks him for his
weak notes and his insight into the plays inconsistent.
As to his own edition, Johnson acknowledges his debt to
his five predecessors, saying "not one left
Shakespeare without improvement" (49). He also
points out that he tended to look before even Rowes
edition in an effort to find the most authoritative text
possible. In an effort to maintain plays integrity,
Johnson confines his "imagination to the
margin," commenting on the text with as little
modification as possible. Still, with a plethora of
available sources, Johnsons work as an editor was
still significant. In the end, he released the most
comprehensive edition of Shakespeares works of the
eighteenth century.

Johnsons edition
of Shakespeare was greeted with mix of adulation and
criticism. Even from the beginning, however, the Preface
"monopolized critical attention" (Sherbo 46).
The misconception that the Preface itself constitutes
Johnsons edition persists even today. Between
Johnsons time and our own the Preface has been both
exalted and condemned. Many of his contemporaries
showered Johnsons edition with great praise,
singling out the Preface as "a fine piece of
writing" containing "much truth, good sense,
and just criticism" (Colman qtd. in Sherbo 47).
Johnsons "comprehensive views and
comprehensive expression made the essay a
classic" (Elledge 1136). Other critics subjected the
Preface to further scrutiny, looking beyond the surface
criticism at Johnsons methods of approaching
Shakespeare. Thus William Kenrick, for example, focused
extensively on Johnsons "treatment of the
unities and the whole question of dramatic illusion"
(Sherbo 48). Kenricks review was not altogether
positive, however. In fact, he bitterly censures Johnson,
accusing him of "having acted, in the outrage he
hath committed on Shakespeare, just like other sinners,
not only by doing those things he ought not to have done,
but by leaving undone those things he ought to have
done" (Kenrick xv). In The Life of Samuel Johnson,
Boswell singles out the Preface, hailing it as a work
"in which the excellencies and defects of that
immortal bard are displayed with a masterly hand"
(130-131). His dismissal of the rest of the work,
however, betrays some hint of disappointment in the
edition as a whole. Certainly, even in Johnsons
lifetime, there were vocal critics besides Kenrick. John
Hawkins dismissed it as unimpressive: "Much had been
expected from it, and little now appeared to have been
performed" (qtd. in Sherbo 48). Still, Hawkins
acknowledges that Johnsons edition of Shakespeare
formed the basis of subsequent editions. Critics of the
nineteenth century were generally harsh as well. Charles
Knight, for example, granted in 1867 that Johnsons
work had "influenced the public opinion up to this
day;" he immediately adds, though, that "the
influence has been for the most part evil" (qtd. in
Sherbo 49). By the end of the nineteenth century, the
critical thought on the Preface tended toward the
unimpressed.

Johnson has regained
some stature in the past hundred years, however. Slowly,
critics began to see in his Preface a "conclusive
summing up by a strong, wise, and impartial mind"
(Smith qtd. in Sherbo 49). Other critics found value in
more specific aspects of Johnsons work. T.S. Eliot
praised his lucidity in identifying Shakespeares
genre: "The distinction between the tragic and the
comic is an account of the way in which we try to live;
when we get below it, as in King Lear, we have an
account of the way in which we do live" (Eliot 296).
Eliot shared Johnsons distaste for the superficial
distinctions through which Shakespeares plays had
been labeled tragic, comic, and historic. Rather, he saw
that, in the interchange tragic and comic scenes,
Shakespeare produces literature that is true to life.
Indeed, Charles Warren points out that "Eliot in his
susceptibilities sounds a little like Dr. Johnson,"
whom he praised in various ways (6). Arthur Sherbo,
editor of Johnson on Shakespeare, saw that,
despite its weaknesses, the Preface is still worthy of
study:

Where Johnson
deviated from the traditional criticism of
various aspects of Shakespeares art he was
often wrong But this does not detract from
the merited fame of the Preface as a magnificent
restatement of the eighteenth centurys
thinking on Shakespeare. (Sherbo 60)

Such a view of Johnson
is best described as qualified praise; he acknowledges
its weaknesses without ignoring its strengths. Donald
Green echoes Sherbos praises, stressing that
Johnson gave the eighteenth centurys critics
"their first really effective and memorable
expression" (Greene, Samuel Johnson 185).
More recently, also, Johnson has earned the recognition
of modern critics. In his analysis of Shakespeares
depictions of reality, for example, A.D. Nuttall commends
Johnsons approach to the Bard as poet of nature.
Johnson, he says, "finds in Shakespeares
adherence to nature a profound and ordered
uniformity" (67). Indeed, in many ways, the
importance that Nuttall prescribes to realism is similar
to that of Johnson. In his conclusion, he points out
their mutual dislike for "the pastoral
convention," in favor of forms less "insulated
from this varying world" (185, 193). Nuttall
embraces Shakespeares version of reality, which he
sees as an unconscious challenge to transcendentalism.
Edward Tomarken, too, defends the Preface. Never denying
that it is a "largely derivative work,"
Tomarken argues that it directly links the criticism of
the eighteenth century to that of today (3). He points
out that it "speaks directly to us, raising new
questions and presenting new resolutions for modern
Shakespereans, theoreticians, and literary critics in
general" (3). Todays critics have generally
looked beyond the origins of the work to its original
methodological contributions, where they have found much
value.

More than any other
modern critic, however, Harold Bloom has fully embraced
Johnsons approach to Shakespeare. Arguably
todays preeminent scholar of Shakespeare, Bloom
singles out Johnson as "the foremost of
interpreters" and "first among all Western
literary critics" (Bloom 2). Such praise for
Johnson, particularly in reference to his edition of
Shakespeare, is almost unprecedented. He sees
Johnsons contribution to both literary criticism
generally and Shakespearean criticism specifically as
indispensable. He defines "Johnsons vitality
as a critic" by noting that he is "always
sufficiently inside Shakespeares plays to
judge them as he judges human life, without ever
forgetting that Shakespeares function is to bring
life to mind" (2). Blooms tribute to
Johnsonian criticism is not mere lip service, however; he
integrates Johnsons principles into his own
approach to Shakespeares works. Bloom echoes
Johnsons focus on creativity, stressed not only in
the Preface to Shakespeare, but also in the Lives of the
Poets, where Johnson points out that Miltons work
"is not the greatest of heroic poems, only because
it is not the first" (Johnson qtd. in Greene, Critical
Edition 716). For Bloom, Shakespeares ingenuity
is of prime importance, and his invention was not only
literary, but linguistic: "Early modern English was
shaped by Shakespeare: the Oxford English Dictionary
is made in his image" (Bloom 10). Bloom also
incorporates Johnsons notion of Shakespeare as the
poet of nature into his own work, calling Hamlet
"arts tribute to nature" (4).
Blooms focus in examining Shakespeare is, in fact,
his "originality in the representation of
character" (17). On the whole, Bloom is
simultaneously a distinctly modern and distinctly
Johnsonian critic.

Johnson was among the
first of the Bards editors. His Preface, however,
betrays his reliance on his few predecessors.
Nevertheless, his edition has affected the study of
Shakespeare since its publication in 1765. Whether
praised or censured, critics have garnished
Johnsons editionits Preface, in
particularwith much attention. Johnson did not
begin the study of Shakespeare, nor did he set an
unchallenged precedent in the field. Still,
Johnsons approach to the poet of nature has
survived until the present. Certainly, Johnsons
Preface does not enjoy the same popular appeal as
Shakespeares works. As long as scholars continue to
examine Shakespeare, however, Johnsons work will
remain important. Truly, Shakespeare endures. So does
Johnson.

Works Cited

Bloom, Harold. Shakespeare:
The Invention of the Human. New York:
Riverhead Books, 1998.